


To rule and be ruled

by Playswithknives



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Voldemort (Harry Potter), Dark Harry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, botTom-bottom tom riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2019-08-27 17:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16707031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Playswithknives/pseuds/Playswithknives
Summary: Not really a summary but I think with all the harry/voldemort stuff you should have seen more bottom tom by now. So I have decided to do that. Along with him being a sub because what control freak doesn't like a release?(Also because it mentions, in passing, about rape and assault (literally just the words once each) so if that linked to anything bdsm is hyper triggering perhaps skip. But that is just in one paragraph in chapter 3)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much same as always for me. I write when I feel like it, so don't expect a timetabled uploading of chapters.

Chapter 1

 

It was a sweltering summer evening in the south east of England. Surrey had been particularly affected, and did Harry know it. 

He'd been forced into working from dawn until dusk, and with it being summer, that meant going to be locked up at 10 pm and woken at 3am. This time between work was used to sleep, clean himself when allowed, and, on occasion, eat.

The exhausting work with little food left harry horrendously malnourished, with visible bones and  distinct muscle in stark contrast. 

After another long day of working in the gardens with no magic to help, and all the flowers pruned, weeded, tidied, with fertilizer. Not to mention the grass raked, mowed, had the grass collected to be put into the wheely bin. The list went on and on of chores. 

By the time Harry had done the list of chores it was nearing 11pm and he had yet to eat for 3 days and the last meal he had was a slice of stale bread and warm tap water.

He lay in his bare bed without even a decent pillow, stomach screaming for food and mouth a desert. 

It was in this moment, close to death yet again, that He decided enough was enough. 

Harry had been practicing for the last few years some basic wandless magic but  never something as complicated at transfiguration. In fact it had only ever worked when he was under a huge strain to succeed. Life or death. But he supposed in that moment that tat situation was indeed life or death.

He fathers all his belongings, which quite frankly amounts to near nothing besides his photo album, Hedwig's cage, and the clothes on his back.

He focused hard on the items hoping to shrink them. It took four goes but Harry didn't give up. 

'C'mon, please work,' he thought to himself and he placed his hands over the items. On the fourth go he felt the items move away from his hands. He'd been scrunching his eyes until that point. He peeked an eye open and then the other in disbelief. It had worked. Putting the items into his pocket, he strides with renewed energy towards the door. Using his hands to guide his thoughts again, he muttered Alohamora," under his breath. 

There was a sliding noise and Harry was able to open the door. This was one of the best days ever. 

Sneaking down to the cupboard under the stairs he once more put his hands up. It opened easier than the previous door. He collected his trunk, shrank it, put it in his pocket and left. 

...

The walk to train station was long but it gave Harry time to think. That was the last time he would go back to his relatives. If Dumbledoor sent him back he'd set their house on fire. Along with Dumbledoor's wardrobe. 

Harry had decided that it was time for independence from Dumbles, the Order, and whoever told him what to do. 

By the time he got there it was the last train, so Lady Luck must have been watching over him that night. Lady luck had, apparently anticipated this event previously, as Harry found some money he had taken from the Dursley's over the last few months, which he had forgotten he'd put in his pocket. He counted himself lucky it hadn't fallen out of one of the holes in his jeans. 

Once he got to London, it occurred to Harry that he had no idea what he's doing. So he walked and walked, followed whoever looked interesting to see if they were going anywhere fun. 

At almost 12am he saw many signs with various colours and text like "XXX" and "Bar". These caught his eye enough to entice him towards the road. 

As he got further down, he saw a man dressed in black leather holding a leash to another man, wearing very little clothes. Now that looked interesting. He followed them to the club. 

Instead of lining up for entry, Happy placed a disillusionment charm on himself and entered past the huge security guard who looked like he could kill a man with only his pinky figure and thumb.

The room was dark with many light lasers going across the ceiling. To the left was a stage with a few pedestals on either side. 

Opposite to that was numerous booths fitted with, you guessed it, more black leather. The main area in front of the stage had a dance floor with many people wearing varying amounts of clothes, all grinding against each other or controlling the movement of another while they are used to be ground against. 

Harry walked through the dance floor to see a closed off but public area with many soft cushions, settees, blankets and a water fountain. There were people in there curled up, a particular couple Harry couldn't take his eyes off. A man had wrapped a woman in a blanket and was stroking her hair while she seemed to be calming down from something, but looking at someone else there who was receiving a good rubbing of moisturiser over what appeared to be whip marks. 

Harry moved on upstairs to what appeared to be private rooms that were locked. In one room he heard screams that were indiscernible between cries of extacy and pain. Unable to quiet his curiosity Harry opened the door to peek I side. 

A man was tied spread eagle, on his belly, while another man was thrusting dildo into the man lying down, while he slapped his aresw, hard on the push in. 

At the sight, harry felt himself start to get hard. The receiver seemed to be so into it and turned on, that Harry wondered what it would be like to be the one giving that. Giving someone utter pleasure to the point of tears. 

The strapped down man was crying but had no complaints, until he breathed "I'm going to come," while trying to gain friction with a strange looking bed. 

"No, you will be good for me, and wait until I tell you to," the other man crooked while stroking the rising welts. He stopped moving the dildo and spoke again, "you will wait, and take what I give you. Now what is your safeword?"

"Cherrypie," the tied down one whispered, shoving his face down and clutched onto the wrist holds. 

"The other griped firm onto the mans hip and removed the dildo to be replaced with his own cock. It wasn't the clearest to see from the placement of the bed, but he does know from the grunts and moans, and the way the other man is gripping vice-like that they're both so into it, that Harry could drop the spell and still go unnoticed. 

Harry had to readjust himself multiple times as he peered through the doorway, just waiting for them both to finish so he could too. 

 When the other man's breath became strained and hitched, Harry knew it couldn't be long.

" come on, Baby, cum for me," the man ordered, and almost immediately the first man gave a shout, clearly having the strongest orgasm Harry had ever seen. The other man arched back but kept thrusting, as though hr has being sucked inside out. 

Heavy panting was the only sound in the room then as they both came down, and Harry decided that was the point to close the door once more. 

Taking a moment for him to relax, harry noticed a stain had appeared on his oversized jeans. He really must have been a randy teen to cum untouched like that. But harry knew that if he had  partner, they would need to do this with him. Seeing the man control the mam strapped down, how his hands brought him pleasure and pain, how much they enjoyed it. No, Harry would not be without. It was something that felt right. He would be one who gave that extacy to someone deserving release. 

Harry made a vouch to himself, then and there, to learn everything he could about what it would take to be an amazing giver.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Not knowing where else to stay for the night, Harry figured the best course of action would be to stat at the club until it gets light again. So while he continued to watch the performances upon the stage, Harry began to plan put his summer. 

Where should he go? Could he afford it? What about school and his education?

And a particular worry was Voldemort. Were he to runaway he would be in constant danger. But were he to go back to Hogwarts, what would Dumbledoor do to him? Probably continue his manipulation. Deceitful old man. 

Harry pondered his options for a few hours until it was light enough he began the walk towards an underground station he knew would get him close enough to the entrance for Diagon Alley. 

By the time he got to the Leaky Coldron it was around 4:30. It was then it occurred to harry that gringots wouldn't be open for another 4 and a half hours. 

"Damn, I'll just have to wait somewhere," he muttered to himself. That was when he noticed an Alley way near a co-op. He tried to make himself inconspicuous to anyone who happened to see him, despite the unlikelihood of that happening. 

He knew shops, especially supermarkets were know for throwing out food even though its still safe. 

Once in the alley, Harry once more cast a notice me not on himself and began his rummage for a feast. He collected the safe food and settled onto a flattened cardboard box before tucking in. 

He may have been exhausted and sat in an alley, but that was the best meal outside of Hogwarts he had ever eaten. 

Once done he settled in for a nap.

...

A few hours later, when there were people roaming the streets, Harry carried on with his mission. According to the clock on a nearby building, it was almost 10. 

He snook through the Leaky, to the entrance. After hiding next to the backdoor watching others use the wall, Harry copied the tapping sequence and entered too. 

Keeping his head down he quickly made his way to Gringot's Bank.

It was outside which he once more noticed the plaque giving warnings to those who dares steal from it. He couldn't think of anyone who would dare to steal from the bank, but just because he couldn't think of someone, Harry wasn't naïve enough to think none would. 

The inside was just as grand as he remembered, with many patrons and Goblin tellers. 

He approached an available teller. 

"Hello? My name is Harry Potter; may I speak to someone about my account?" Harry asked nervously. The goblin leaned forward to assess him. 

"Key, please," the goblin asked tersely. 

"Key? I don't have it. Its being kept with Dumbledore," harry said confused. Should he have his key? He hadn't known that.

The goblin muttered 'Dumbledore' under his breath. "Please pin prick your finger and dab the blood on this form for proof of identity," the goblin gave the from over to in front of Harry and requested him to place his hand palm up. Once Harry had done so, he mocked his nail clean and pricked Harry's index finger. "Now dab here, please," the goblin ordered and pointed to the bottom right of the form. He again cleaned the nail while Harry dabbed his finger on the page then put it in his mouth.

The blood on the page was absorbed and crimson writing appeared as though being sucked up by the paper from underneath, and spelt out Harry's full name. 

"Heir Potter, as your identity has been confirmed, I can refer you to the Potter vaults manager, Griphook who-"

"Vaults?" Harry interrupted. From the look of shock on the boys face, the teller, Ironfang, gave what he hoped was a comforting nod. While he himself did not particularly care for the affairs of wizards, to know this child had no idea of his own heritage and family. 

He waved over Griphook and spoke to him in gobbledygook. Griphook turned to Harry, " this way please," he told stuff to which Harry began to follow, but first he paused. 

"Thank you, uh..."

"Ironfang,"

"Ironfang," harry smiled to the goblin. The goblin was surprised for a wizard to actually show respect to one of his kind. 

"You are welcome, Heir Potter. May your vaults be ever full," 

Harry considered his next words carefully before speaking, "and may you...be victorious in battle?" He cringed a little as he spoke. That was such a cheesy thing to say, but it seemed to be somewhere in the right area, as Ironfang nodded again. 

From there, Harry followed Griphook to a private room within the bank. 

"Please sit," Griphook instructed before sitting at the desk. The chair Harry was told to sit on was an old wooden chair with velvet upholstery. The wood seemed to be mahogany by Harry's guess. It was surprisingly comfortably, which helped him can down even if just slightly. 

 Griphook seemed solemn as he spoke, "Heir Potter, it is of great importance that you answer me as detailed as you can. Were you involved in the withdrawal of funds from your family vaults?"

Harry sat stunned, "uhh, people jeep saying 'vaults' but to my knowledge I only have one. So um, yeah, I have no idea about anything. I don't even get to keep my key to take Monet out, unless it's just before going back to school," he informed the goblin. 

The goblin nodded, as if this coincided with his own thoughts, "it is as I feared, Heir Potter. It appears that you have been left uninformed about your heritage entirely, and have also been a victim to a certain someone withdrawing, illegally, money from your vaults. Measures will be put in place to refund all lost gold, Knut's, nickels, and non monetary goods to your possession.

A new key will also be care for you,"

Harry's face had grown pale. "Money and goods? I was left what my parents owned, an inheritance, and never knew? Is there anything else I should know?" Harry enquired. His anger was slowly building. 

"I'm afraid so. Your parents' will was sealed after their death by your, supposedly, legal guardian. We will have it soon, as it is being delivered from your Potter Family vault."

"Thank you, Griphook. Honestly and sincerely for your efforts into this. And, um, may u ask something?" he questioned. The goblin nodded his agreement.

"Who is this guardian who froze the will?"

"I believe you may already know the answer. Ah here it is now," Griphook took the offered rolls of paper from the goblin who had entered the room, before dismissing them away. 

"First will be the lord Potter will," he said as he rolled out the parchment before handing to Harry. 

The will was to the point, with the occasional joke thrown in, displaying that even while contemplating his death, he was trying to remain upbeat. His father, James, had wrote that should both he and Lilly be dead, he was to go to Remus, Snape or Sirius, in that order should any person be unable to provide him a home. Nowhere had it stated Dumbledore or the Dursley's. 

Moving on to his mother's will, it was also to the point, and stating that there were letters for him from her pregnancy she had wished to read with him when he was older. That had Harry at near crying point. The will went on to say the same as James' had. 

(To be added here- harry seeing his vaults but CBA ATM)

...

Harry left gringots feeling oddly refreshed, and like a new person. He was finally getting answers and independence. 

With the money he withdrew, he set on his way towards muggle London once more, after quickly stopping by a book shop to buy books on magical BDSM and various types of magic that was to be taught ant Hogwarts or not taught at all. 

He had feared what would happen at diagon Ally, until he remembered he'd been using a notice me not spells. Duh. If its not broken, don't fix it. So with spell in place, Harry made his way. The books he chose, he paid for by leaving the rounded up value in galleons and sickels.

Once in London, harry stopped by various places buying a whole new wardrobe. Close fitting shirts, t-shirts,slim cut jeans and trousers. Including 2 pairs of black leather trousers. He paired these with a nice pair of black dress shoes, a pair of leather boots and a grey pair of trainers. The socks were generic, but for underwear he was much more interested in that fabrics and cuts. 

While for now Harry was too inexperienced to even try anything, he didn't underestimate the confidence a good pair of underwear gave people. 

The many bags had feather light charms on, with contents shrunk to fit it all into fewer bags. 

He was getting fed up of the shopping bags, when he noticed a satchel and backpack in a shop window. They were perfect. Matching styles, made of durable black fabrics and leather. The main pockets were zip shut leaving more protection to his items. 

He naught them immediately, regardless of the hefty pricetags. 

He took the underground to the station he visited before. Harry had decided that a hotel, at least in the short-term, would be needed so had booked himself into one nearby, 4 star, for an indefinite time, to be paid day by day. 

He could have used magic to have the room for free, but Harry felt that just because he could, it didn't mean he had the right to do so. 

Harry experimented with his new clothes, trying out different outfits and seeing where he needed to purchase an addition. He settled in for the evening, before heading out to the club again.

And when he would arrive in a few hours time, he was going to make the most of it. Harry was planning, but the results yet to be seen may or may not be just what he wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to meet tom more

 Chapter 3

 

"My Lord, I have discovered something that I think you be interested in," Evan spoke clearly to the Dark Lord sat upon the dias.

Evan Rosier remained stood as he spoke, unlike the other DeathEaters who would kneel before him. Evan always was different. Even as Moody was trying to kill him, he never seems to back down. It was a popular opinion that Evan Rosier would probably belong on the Jaenus-Thicky ward of he weren't a Death Eater. 

"What is it Rosier," the Dark Lord drawled. He sat slouched in a clear display of boredom and disinterest of his subordinate. 

"I have found the Potter boy. He seems to be enjoying the rebellious nature of his youth. He can be found near the Soho district of London, my Lord," Evan spoke clearly, with amusement in his voice. Trust the 'chosen one' to do something completely unexpected.

Voldemort seemed to pirk up at this information. 

"Explain," he demanded Evan, before realising that may have been too brash a response to Rosier. Rosier always seemed to be able to read his lord much more than what Voldemort liked.

Evan smirked.

"You see my Lord, it appears that the boy has decided a  _certain lifestyle_ suits him. From what I have seen from observing him, he thinks himself into BDSM. A Dom, too, if what I have interpreted from his actions is correct," Rosier explained. There was a glint in his eyes that suggested he knew more than he let on.

Voldemort sat back against the backrest, bringing the back of his fingers to his mouth in thought. While he still believed he needed the boy dead, that didn't mean he can't have some fun first.

"I see. You may carry on your observations, Rosier. And if anything changes, inform me immediately," Voldemort spoke before giving a wave of dismissal.

After Rosier left the hall, Voldemort relaxed into the chair, lifting his legs over the arm. This was an interesting turn of events.

He could not hold back his curiosity. It lit a fire in his mind and burned with a sense of eagerness to see for himself. 

And if what Rosier said was true, Harry would be in for a huge surprise.

...

Despite what he had been told, he wanted to check for himself sooner rather than later.

Voldemort apparated to a ginnel near by the district just after sundown. With is being around 10:20pm the streets were less busy with people but alive with music from the clubs drifting across. 

Casting a notice me not charm on himself, he moved into the entrance on the street, where Rosier claimed Harry frequented.

It wasn't long before the boy,  _man_ , appeared, dressed in like many of the Dom's he had seen in his time. Tight black leather trousers and matching waist coat with a green shirt bringing out the colour of his eyes. He could also tell that Harry was wearing dragon Hyde boots. Think of iridescent green tones over black scales and you get the idea. Though Voldemort couldn't quite remember which dragon breed it would have come from.

Gods, he was hot. No. Not hot. This is the golden boy. Prophesied child who has the power to vanquish him. Don't get distracted.

He followed him into the club, definitely not starring at his ass. Harry subtly waved his hand to bring forth a notice me not charm. He used wandless magic. Wandless!

Okay so the chosen one is hot. No denying it. But he doesn't have to let others know he thinks that.

Voldemort made his way to the bar, keeping an eye on harry the whole way, where he sat upon the stool, lowering the charm to order a virgin cocktail. Couldn't risk being lowering his senses at a place or time like this. 

Harry, under his own notice me not, still not up to par compared to his own as it was still to easy to see through if you knew it was there, sat at a small table near the centre stage. The pair on stage were clearly a Dom and sub.

The sub was kneeling with his hands tied behind his back, and a blindfold of a matching fabric. The Dom was obviously very much trusted to keep the sub safe. Harry himself was observing closely how the Dom kept his sub aroused without so much as touching him. Using just sounds and his breath. 

Harry was nodding approvingly. And Voldemort approved of harries approval. That bodes well for any sub Harry takes. 

This was getting difficult to decide what to do about him. 

Should he just off the boy, or observe him. This man Harry was becoming. 

Yes. He will observe. Obtain blackmail material. Get close to him under disguise and use it against his supposed vanquisher. The public would in no way approve of the golden boy "abusing" someone. "Sexually assaulting" someone. 

Perfect.

That said, if it turns out that Harry could change his mind about which side he is one? Well that would be even better. 

Not that Harry would know it was him. Not at first at least. He needed to gauge Harry's reactions to his own thoughts and ideals, along with his  _requirements._

He would have to find out soon, with school fast approaching. 

Ugh,  _school,_ as if that doesn't make him feel like a pedophile. 

But Harry is 16, a legal adult in most of the world. Including England outside of the wizarding population. Plus if what his Death Eater said is true about a few certain other details, he won't be with a child, but with a man.  A young man maybe, but a man non the less.

A man, a Dom, in leather, who knows just how to work himself and others. 

But its not been long enough, surely, for Harry to really know what he was getting into. Once the excitement to this new world faded, would he stay? Would he really value the people who gave themselves to him? 

Gods, he hoped so. 

Something he had never told anyone, not even schoolmates he had slept with, that he's a sub. But how could he? Who would believe he, the Great Dark Lord, wished to be bound and controlled. To lose himself in another, to feel the torturous delight that stems from a great Dom.

If Harry could really be a great Dom, he may just be in for a treat.

Walking around the club he could feel his magic coming from a dark mark. Rosier. Good. He was doing exactly as instructed. 

...

Sometimes during the night Harry let down his charm and a few more people joined him at the table. It seemed the boy? Man? Had made some friends. A support network perhaps. 

If people had become friend with him here, then he must be lying about his age. Not surprising if harry was wearing outfits like that. And it seems that all that quidditch he constantly heard Malfoy's annoying sprog complained about had given Harry a truly scrumptious body. 

He needed to leave. He hadn't even talked to him and he was already getting too close.

Voldemort left as silently as he arrived in the club. 

Once back to the ginnel he took moment to collect himself. He would not let a follower, a nobody, see him worked up like this. 

A few moments passed, and a small crack could be heard in the air, almost inaudible over the ambient noise.


End file.
